Anything But Ordinary
by WaningMoon
Summary: After Hogwarts, the trio agree to live a magicfree life. But what happens when they come across an old acquaintance who has no recollection of magic? Story's better, rating for implications and future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Harry Potter looked at his two best friends intently, his green eyes holding a seriousness neither Ron Weasley nor Hermione Granger had seen before. The inevitable war had finally been fought, and a lot of deaths had happened, not all of them coming from the dark side. But that was over. And soon, Hogwarts would be over too. For good. The last few days of Hogwarts were dawning, and the Golden Trio sat in a corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. Half the people usually there had either moved on to the spirit world or were in the hospital wing, still recovering. Harry, Ron and Hermione had not emerged from the war unscathed either, although they were faring much better than anyone else. Hermione had taken the time to notice that although the whole of Hogwarts had been involved in the war, two people had been missing: Ex-Potions professor, Severus Snape, and Harry's arch nemesis within Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy.

The three of them had been quiet for a while as they gathered their thoughts, before Harry spoke up. "This war's been hard on all of us. We've all lost someone or the other."

Neither Hermione nor Ron said anything, not knowing what to say. Harry went on. "Maybe it's in our destiny, to suffer losses. Maybe it's the magic. I mean, this had to happen eventually. With the founding of Hogwarts, it was obvious that sooner or later one of Hogwarts' students would become a threat."

"What are you saying then, Harry? That magic's the cause of all this?" Ron asked, gesturing to the half-empty room. Hermione put a placating hand on his arm.

"Yes, Ron, I am. Maybe it would be better for us if we lived a life without magic. In the Muggle world."

"Harry. You're not serious, are you?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "You can't possibly want to give up magic and live a Muggle life?"

"I do," Harry answered immediately. It seemed like he'd given this matter quite a bit of thought. "Look, every time we come back to Hogwarts some kind of trouble always follows us."

Ron started to say something, but, fearing that it might turn into an argument of sorts, Hermione quickly interrupted. "What if it's just Hogwarts? What if when we leave Hogwarts all this will stop?"

Harry looked at her intensely, his green eyes boring into her own brown orbs. "Do you really believe that? Voldemort's gone, and so are most of the Death Eaters. But not all are gone, Hermione, and you know that. What if they come back?"

"Sure are Mr. Optimistic, aren't you?" Ron muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Ron's right. You can't always hope for the worst. Think, Harry, do you really want to give up a wizard's life just because you're scared?" Hermione asked him.

Harry sighed, a little frustrated. He got up and went over to a window, silent for a moment. Hermione and Ron instinctively got up and joined him. Hermione lightly placed a hand on his arm.

"Harry, even if you run away from them who knows, one day you might have to face them again. In the wizarding world." The Head Girl's voice was soft, tinged with sadness.

"I know," Harry said, just as softly, glancing at her. He wanted to say something more, but didn't know what to. He settled for another sigh instead.

"Hermione's right. No matter where we are, magic will always find us. Even if it's in the weirdest possible way," Ron said from Harry's other side.

Harry closed his eyes briefly, thinking.

"Whatever you do, Ron and I will be behind you all the way," he heard Hermione say.

He nodded briefly and opened his eyes, mind made up. He looked at Hermione, then Ron. "I'm still going to do it. After Hogwarts, I'm giving up magic. And you two don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Harry's two best friends glanced at each other. "I'm with you," Hermione said, looking back at Harry.

Ron nodded. "Me too."

Harry smiled, the action not fully reaching his eyes, where sadness still lurked. "Thanks, guys."

* * *

_**Four years later**_

An alarm clock buzzed, an annoying ring that roused Harry Potter from his peaceful slumber. He groaned and reached an arm out, feeling for the alarm clock and swatting it. The buzzing stopped. In the next room, where Ronald Weasley slept, a similar scenario was happening, except that Ron's snoring was drowning out the buzzing of the alarm clock. Someone pounded on Harry's door. Not knocked, but pounded.

"Harry! Wake up! Breakfast is ready and if you're not out in ten minutes you're going to be late for work!" Not even the wooden door could block out Hermione Granger's shrill voice. The pounding continued. "Harry, wake up right now!"

A second later Hermione had moved on and had now entered Ron's room. She hit the alarm clock hard and threw off Ron's covers. She shook him hard. "Ron, get up! It's 7.05 and unless you're calling in sick you are getting out of this bed right now!"

Ron groaned and opened a sleep eye. "Go away," he muttered, and rolled over. Hermione rolled her eyes and shook him again.

"Not until you wake up."

Ron groaned again, but this time he sat up slowly, in a state of semi-consciousness. Satisfied, Hermione left, pounding once more on Harry's door as she made her way to her own room.

Waking up two 21-year-old boys was a hard job, but someone had to do it. And in this particular apartment in London, the job fell to ex-witch Hermione Granger. She picked up a brush from her dresser and ran it through her light brown tresses a few times, still a little awed by how they had straightened out over the years, then grabbed a scrunchie off her dresser and pulled it around her hair, making a neat ponytail.

She took a moment to study herself in the mirror. What she saw before her still didn't cease to amaze her, even after four years. In the mirror was a girl with wide brown eyes, flawless skin and long light brown hair, dressed today in a crisp white blouse tucked into a knee-length cream-colored skirt, looking as demure as she had ever been. She put on a smile, as though testing it out. But as with all the other times she smiled, the action looked forced, as though she couldn't really shake off whatever sorrow plagued her. Maybe it was the loss of something. Maybe something was missing from her life.

Maybe it was magic.

Hermione turned and walked over to her wardrobe, where next to it was a big cardboard box filled with something. She unfolded the flaps and opened it up, looking longingly inside at the things she had kept from her days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She trailed a hand along her wand, picking it up and feeling the lingering magic course through her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling for a moment.

"Oi! Open up!" Ron's still-sleepy voice broke through Hermione's daydream. Once again, it seemed, Harry had beat Ron to the bathroom.

Hermione smiled a little, replacing the wand and closing the box, then went out into the hallway, leaning against the wall and folding her arms as she looked at the redhead.

"Well, if you got up a little earlier you wouldn't have to do this every single morning, you know," she joked. "Coffee's in the kitchen."

She turned and headed into the said room, pouring herself another cup before she headed off to her job as a receptionist in one of the top hotels in London. She sighed as the dismal thought of facing more rude and impatient people drifted through her mind.

'Oh, well. Might as well get the day started with,' she thought.

**A/N: I know the first chapter was horrible, but let me assure you that it's going to get better later on:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Whee! After a long, long wait, here's the second chapter! And the third chapter's nearly done too, so it'll be up soon!**

**Anything But Ordinary: Two**

Ron sighed, glancing quickly at his wristwatch as he pushed through the throng of Londoners, trying not to be late for work. This always happened. Harry took forever in the shower, doing who knew what, and that always made Ron late. He barely had enough time to gulp down cold coffee and wolf down a sandwich on the way.

He pushed open the door of Electr!c, praying that Andy wasn't in yet as he approached the door that led to the repairs room, where he was one of the "gadget repair geeks", as everyone called them. His job was, well, self-explanatory.

"Ron! Nice of you to finally join us!" Andy exclaimed in mock surprise.

_Perfect_, Ron thought, forcing a smile. "Hi, Andy. Sorry I'm late."

"Why aren't you in uniform yet?" she enquired, folding her arms and leaning back against the work bench.

Ron grabbed his red shirt off the back of his chair, pulling it over his own white one, smiling at Andy as he gestured to himself. "Who says I'm not?"

She glared at him. "If you're late one more time, Weasley, you're fired." And with those words, Andrea Hart left the repairs room, going out to the main store.

Ron groaned, sitting down on his swivel chair. He looked at his neighbour, Gary. "She's out to get me, isn't she?"

Gary laughed. "Harry again?"

He nodded. "What's there today?"

Gary pushed a Ziplock bag containing a digital camera towards him. "Lady's camera keeps freezing."

"Perfect," Ron grinned, emptying the bag. He fiddled with the camera, trying it out to judge the problem for himself.

Then he took it apart, feeling himself relax as he got more absorbed in his work.

**-||-**

Harry entered The Fisheria, with only the black apron missing from his uniform. He passed through the kitchen, nodding to the chefs, and headed for the locker room. He turned the combination, opening his locker. He deposited his cell phone and wallet inside and pulled out his apron before closing his locker. Dejectedly, he put on his apron, then frowned and opened his locker again. He took out his order pad and a couple of pens, and shoved them into his apron pockets before closing his locker. Again.

He sighed, resting his head against the cool metal of the locker. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, who once dreamed of being an Auror, now was a pathetic waiter at a fish and chips restaurant. Minimum wage barely paid the rental; it was a good thing he shared the apartment with Ron and Hermione, else he'd be on the streets. Or worse, back in Privet Drive.

"Harry, this isn't fair, you barely got here and your side is loaded with customers!" a female voice chirped from the door. "Oh, are you alright?"

He looked up, turning his head at the voice. Sharon Appleby. He gave a little smile, nodding, "I'm fine, thanks." He moved past her, through the kitchen again, and into the main restaurant, heading off to his 'designated section' and putting on his best I-love-customers-and-my-job-is-the-absolute-best-thing-in-the-world-OMG! smile.

"Good morning and welcome to the Fisheria. Are you ready to order?"

**-||-**

"Good morning and welcome to the Queen Victoria Hotel. What can I do for you today, sir?" Hermione smiled up at the brunette standing in front of her, probably another businessman from France or Germany or something.

"I'm here for the real estate conference," the man said, his words heavily laced with an Australian accent.

"Second floor, the third door to your right," she replied, marking out the way with her hands.

Without a 'thank you' or even a smile the Australian real estate agent walked off, as if he was so much more important than her. Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. She had no time to dwell on the rudeness of real estate agents, though, as the phone rang yet again.

She picked it up. "Front desk, good morning. How may I help you?...I'll let Housekeeping know, madam. Have a nice day." Hanging up the phone, Hermione turned to Anne Osbourne, her fellow sufferer. "Why do people think that fresh towels are our responsibility?"

Anne shrugged. "The same reason why Room Service and Front Desk are the same, I suppose."

The phone rang again, and this time Anne answered.

Hermione turned back, facing the entrance of the hotel. It was actually quite sickening, with strawberries-and-cream furnishings: cream couches and armchairs, pink wallpaper, red and pink and white flowers in every vase…

A couple entered from the revolving doors, and Hermione straightened, plastering on a smile and nodding to them as they approached her. She studied them in the agonizingly long time it took them to walk there: the woman was pretty, she supposed, with straight black hair that was loosely pulled back into a ponytail, and vivid blue eyes, and a flawless complexion and perfect cheekbones and a perfect figure and Hermione unwittingly found herself hating her; the man was tall, with white-blond hair, silver grey eyes and a pale, pointed face…

Hermione let out a gasp –Draco Malfoy was in a Muggle hotel. In a desperate attempt to avoid him she turned to Anne, hoping that she could handle them, but Anne was still caught up with the visitor on the phone. She turned back to find herself with no way out of it: he was standing in front of her.

"Uh, hi." She stared blankly at them for a moment, panicking. "Welcome to the Queen Victoria Hotel. What can I do for you?" _Please say you're looking for the Queen Elizabeth Hotel…_

Malfoy (or the-man-whom-Hermione-thought-was-Malfoy, at the very least) smiled. "Hi, we've got a reservation for the honeymoon suite. I'm Dalton Pierce."

Hermione frowned. _Dalton Pierce? _"No, you're Draco Malfoy. Don't you remember me?"

This time Malfoy frowned, looking at Hermione as if she had sprouted an extra head. The girl turned to him. "What's she talking about, Dalton?"

"I don't know, Ter," he told her. "I'm sorry, miss, I think you've got the wrong person. Could you look up my –"

"I don't have the wrong person!" Hermione jumped up. "Malfoy, it's me, Hermione. Remember? We went to Hogwarts together!"

"Hog-what? I went to Cambridge. Look, could you just find our reservation, please?"

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Somehow Anne had gotten off the phone and was now standing beside Hermione.

"No, but there will be if someone doesn't find our reservation."

The woman – Ter – placed a hand on his arm. "Dalton, temper."

"Right away, sir. Your name, please?" Anne moved Hermione out of the way and took her place at the computer, ready to type in his name.

Hermione stared at him. To say she was confused would be downplaying the level of her confusion.

"Room 1402, sir," Anne informed them, handing him the envelope containing the key cards.

"Thank you." With a final look at Hermione, Malfoy and his girlfriend left the front desk.

Anne spun around in the swivel chair, glaring at Hermione. "Hermione, what happened? I mean, seriously? I have never seen you act this way, and today, you just…boom!"

Hermione stared at the spot where Malfoy had stood, hearing Anne indistinctly. Why hadn't Malfoy recognized her? Why did he insist he was Dalton Pierce? What kind of a name was 'Dalton Pierce' anyway? And why hadn't he recognized her?

Anne waved a hand in front of Hermione's face, breaking into her thoughts.

"What?" she asked blankly.

Anne sighed. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off, Herm."

_The rest of the day…_The words passed slowly through her muddled-up thoughts, and it took her a moment before she registered them. She nodded slowly. "I…I probably should…"

**-|end of chapter 2|-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Two chapters in one day, yo! Thanks to Yagnya for beta-ing it for me! Anyway, 'Draco Malfoy' and 'Dalton Pierce' are used interchangeably, so if it gets too confusing, let me know and I'll…figure something out!**

**Anything But Ordinary: Three**

Swinging a bag from Tesco in one hand, and whistling a song that he couldn't remember the name of, Ron stuck his key into the lock, turned it and opened the door…

…to be greeted by a very strange sight (well, strange for a Wednesday late afternoon, at any rate): Hermione was on her hands and knees, mumbling to herself and vigorously scrubbing an invisible stain on the floor. He raised an eyebrow. Hermione was in one of her cleaning frenzies, which meant that she was upset, which meant that now was not the best time to be home, which meant that Ron was slowly turning around to pretend that he had never come in.

Except that he dropped his keys.

The sound startled Hermione, and she turned with a manic gleam in her eyes. She stared at him for a moment. "Ronald? Where are you going? Oh, you are _not_ about to set foot on my clean floors!"

Ron closed his eyes, breathing in before he faced Hermione. "Then how do you propose I get into the kitchen to make dinner?" he asked, as tactfully as he could.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Honestly, Ronald, how can you expect me to know every goddamn thing?"

He tried to tiptoe into the kitchen, but Hermione shrieked with every step he took, so he gave up and just stared at her.

"Alright, Hermione, what's wrong?"

Hermione crossed her legs, stopping herself from running her wet hands through her hair. "I…I really don't know."

Ron took this moment to chuck the bag on the kitchen counter before joining Hermione on the floor. He took her hands, lifting her chin up so they were looking at each other. "So why are you home so early? And why are you cleaning?"

"Anne told me to take the rest of the day off."

She was silent for a minute, and Ron rubbed circles on the back of her hands. "I thought I saw Malfoy," she finally said.

**-||-**

In the honeymoon suite in the Queen Victoria Hotel, lay Dalton Pierce and his new bride of three days, Asteria Greengrass-Pierce, after an entire afternoon spent…well, doing what a newlywed couple would spend the afternoon doing. Teri lay asleep in Dalton's arms, blanket pulled up to her chin.

But Dalton lay wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. Even _with_ Teri he had been thinking about the receptionist from the front desk. Hermione. There was something oddly familiar about her. She was like a shadow in a bright room: you knew it was there, but you couldn't exactly locate it. Okay, so that wasn't the best analogy, but Dalton wasn't thinking straight right now.

He sighed. Glancing down at Teri, he pried himself free. Teri snuggled into the pillow, moaning softly. Pulling on his boxers, he walked to the bathroom.

It was a typical hotel bathroom, with a beige bathtub, beige toilet, and a beige sink with brown marbled tiles around it. There was a huge mirror stretched across the sink, and it was into this mirror that Dalton looked into right now.

The face he saw was familiar, but this time something was missing. Staring at himself some more, he realized something had been missing for the past four years or so. _Since I met Teri_. But he pushed that thought out of his head. Teri made him happy, he told himself. Everything was perfect with Teri.

So then why did he feel like there was a whole chunk of memory missing from his life? Why did he feel like he needed to talk to this Hermione, whoever she was, and find out everything she knew about him? Or the man she thought he was, at any rate.

He sighed again. He turned on the tap, splashing cold water on his face.

**-||-**

Asteria Greengrass-Pierce stirred, reaching out for Dalton, but feeling only an empty bed. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, clutching the blanket to herself.

"Dalton?" she called out, worried. "Dalton?"

"I'm in the bathroom," he answered. Then Teri became aware of the sound of running water, and she calmed down, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She got out of bed to pull on an oversized shirt and sat down again, folding her legs under her as she leaned back against the headboard.

It was a little strange that even after four years of being with him, his absence still scared the daylights out of her. She closed her eyes, trying to still her frantically-beating heart. And the incident with that Granger girl today had left her more shaken than ever.

_**Four years ago, the Malfoys had come for dinner with the Greengrasses. Or, Narcissa and Draco had come for dinner with the Greengrasses, at any rate. Lucius had been sent to Azkaban roughly a month ago.**_

_**After dinner, Draco and Asteria sat on the back porch swing, talking about random things.**_

"_**So, um, what are you planning on doing now?" Teri asked, looking up at him, finally asking the one question that had been sitting between them like a big white elephant.**_

_**Draco bit his lip, wondering how he could ask her. "Asteria, I, um, I need your help with something."**_

_**Teri looked down, sighing inwardly. He was avoiding the question. "What can I do?"**_

"_**I need you to partially erase my memory."**_

_**She looked up, shocked. "Wha-what?"**_

"_**I need you to partially erase my memory," he repeated, looking at her. "Just enough to forget everything that's happened, but not so much that I become like Lockhart."**_

_**The two paused for a moment, Draco grinning at the memory of Lockhart, Teri frowning and wondering why he was asking her to do this.**_

"_**Why?" she finally asked.**_

"_**Why, what?"**_

"_**Why? Why do you want to do this? Why me? Just…why?"**_

"_**Teri, I can't go on like this. Not with Dad in Azkaban and Mum…Mum's just a broken mess. And I'm expected to pull everything together. And I can't. I need you to wipe out part of my memory, make me forget about all this so I can start a new life, one without all this…stress. Please, Teri, you have to help me."**_

_**Teri swiped her hand across her eyes, failing to hide her tears. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to, Draco," she finally said.**_

"_**You're one of the strongest witches I know, Ter. And right now I trust you more than anyone else. And a Memory Charm isn't that hard. Teri, you have to do this for me," Draco pleaded, taking her hands.**_

_**She looked up at him. Stared up at him, searched his face. "Tomorrow."**_

_**Draco blinked. Did she just agree? "What?"**_

"_**Tomorrow. I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron and I'll do it for you."**_

_**He smiled, relieved. "I love you, Teri," he grinned, throwing his arms around her.**_

_**She was taken aback, but in a pleasant sort of way. She hugged him back, keeping her smile to herself.**_

"Teri?"

Draco's voice broke into Asteria's thoughts, rousing her into reality. "Hmm?"

"I asked you if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight. I heard there's a really good fish and chips place nearby," he said, coming over to join her on the bed, dressed in a crisp black shirt and jeans. "You alright?"

He put an arm around her, and she snuggled into him, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Actually, I feel like staying in tonight."

"Anything you want, love," Dalton replied, sighing inside.

**-|end of chapter three|-**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have to give a special shoutout to Anhdara13, (one of) my best friend and my beta reader, for giving me comments and encouragement on all my stories and chapters and for being crazy and putting up with my...weirdness, to put it mildly. She knows she rocks, so I'm not even gonna say it!**

**Anything But Ordinary: Four**

Harry had to get himself another job. He simply could not stand and smile forcibly for nine-hour shifts, pretending that he was happy to serve customers who were – and he hated saying this – worse than Malfoy. So he was just a waiter. That didn't mean half the people he served could look down on him and treat him as they did.

Luckily for him, it was finally 6 o clock in the evening, which meant he could finally go home to a nice, warm meal that Ron had cooked, burnt, and then sneakily magicked up, thinking that Harry wouldn't know.

(Please. He knew the difference between Aunt Petunia's cooking and Mrs. Weasley's. She claimed it was love, but Harry swore it was magic he tasted in Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and he distinctly tasted that in Ron's cooking as well.)

He took off his apron, unceremoniously shoving it into his locker without bothering to fold it.

"So, um, what are you planning on doing tonight, Harry?" Sharon asked, feigning casual curiosity. Luckily for _her_, she didn't have to feign anything, for Harry was as oblivious to her attempts to go out with him as Ron was insensitive to…well, to just about anything, actually.

"Hmm?" Harry peeked out from his locker, glancing briefly at Sharon before turning his attention back to his plain and undecorated locker. "Oh, uh, I'm just gonna go off home."

"Oh," she said, disappointed once again. "Well, some of us are going out for drinks. Why don't you come along?"

Another few hours with the people he spent nine hours with? "That's okay, Sherry."

"Sharon," she corrected him, her heart sinking even more.

"Sharon, right. That's okay, I'm…just…going to go home." He gave her a curt smile, then grabbed his wallet and his cell phone and left the back room.

He checked his cell phone, and was surprised to find at least a dozen missed calls from Ron. (Yes, Ron had managed to master the telephone.) Frowning, he called back.

"Ron, hey. You called me?"

"Yeah, I…what?" The background sounds of an argument with Hermione filtered through the phone, and Harry switched off for a moment, suddenly missing Quidditch. "Sorry 'bout that, Harry. I was just wondering if…if you…wanted to have…fish for dinner."

Harry blinked, stopping in the middle of the pavement, jostled by the people around him who were eager to get back to their warm, cozy houses. "You left me a dozen missed calls to find out if I wanted fish for dinner?" he asked incredulously.

"Look, just hurry home, alright?"

A casual observer would have thought that Harry was having a conversation with his wife. He rolled his eyes. "See you, Ron."

Ron had probably gotten off work early and felt bored, Harry figured, continuing on the trek to the bus stop.

-||-

"Teri, I'm itching to go outside," Dalton complained, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television set inside their suite.

Teri glanced up from the magazine she was browsing through. "Room service will be here in a while, Dalton."

"Yes, but it's our honeymoon," he persisted. He got off the bed and walked over to the sofa Teri was lounging on. He stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. "And we've only got a few days here."

Teri closed her magazine and turned to look at Dalton, her brown hair swinging over her shoulder. "Alright, well, where do you suggest we go at 6 o clock on a Thursday night?"

"Anywhere. We could just go for a walk, as long as we get out of here. Asteria, it's our honeymoon, and we came here to enjoy the city. So let's enjoy it."

It was hard for Asteria to not go all weak-kneed whenever Draco looked at her so lovingly, with those wonderful gray eyes. A sick feeling crept into her stomach, guilt for what she had done.

She looked away. "Dalton, I don't really feel too well."

He closed his eyes briefly, then put a smile on his face. "D'you want me to get you an aspirin, sweetheart?"

She shook her head, standing up. "I'm just going to go lie down for a while."

Dalton watched her leave the 'living room'. Sighing, he sat down on the sofa she had just vacated, staring mindlessly at the TV.

Asteria lay down on the bed, curling into a ball on her side. She pulled the covers up. She closed her eyes, tried to sleep, but her mind swam.

When she had cast the Memory Modification Charm on Draco Malfoy four years ago, she had added a little something for herself, a selfish little thing she had harboured for years now.

She had made him fall in love with her.

**-|end of chapter four|-**


	5. Chapter 5

**Anything But Ordinary: Five**

Asteria lay sleeping on the bed when room service came, but Dalton didn't have the heart to wake her. So he ate dinner alone, which Teri probably would have reprimanded him for.

The TV was turned on to some comedy starring Adam Sandler, but Dalton wasn't paying much attention. Neither was he paying attention to what he was eating. His mind was wandering somewhere else. It had wandered into forbidden territory, a place that he had tried to avoid going to for the past few hours.

Had he done the right thing? If someone had asked him that a few weeks ago, he would have said yes without a moment's hesitation. But today he wasn't so sure.

It had something to do with the Hermione from Front Desk, of that he was sure. But what exactly it was, he had yet to figure out.

Today Dalton felt like there was a huge part of him missing. And he couldn't help but feel that Asteria had something to do with it, that she was hiding something from him.

He sighed, pushing away his food. What had he been eating, anyway? He looked down. Ah. Teri had ordered honey glazed roast chicken, and he had mutilated the poor chicken to shreds.

Oh well. There wasn't much he could do now except wait.

-||-

Harry frowned, taking a sip from his beer bottle. "And you're sure it was Malfoy?" he asked. He looked at the beer; suddenly the bitter taste of it disgusted him, and he pushed it away, returning his attention to his roommates and best friends.

Hermione hesitated. "That's the thing, you see: I _think_ it was him, but I'm not completely sure. He looked exactly like what Malfoy would look like right now" (_except he looked much better than he did at Hogwarts_, she reluctantly admitted) "but he insisted he was…what did he say…Dalton. Dalton Pierce. And that he didn't know who I was."

"I keep telling her it's possible that she saw someone who just _looked like_ Malfoy but wasn't him, but she doesn't believe me," Ron interjected, hoping for some support from Harry.

But Harry was the last place he would've found support from, being the conspiracy theorist that he was. He sat silent for a few moments, playing with the half-empty beer bottle again.

"Harry?" Hermione finally asked.

He blinked. "Sorry. I don't really know what to think right now, guys." He rubbed his forehead, his fingers straying to his scar, hidden by his messy black fringe. He stood up. "I think I'm going to bed."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other despairingly. Hermione sighed and stood up herself, preparing to clear the table.

"What d'you reckon's gotten into him?" Ron asked, staring at the spot where Harry had been a moment earlier.

"I wish I knew, Ron," she replied, her voice soft. Setting the plates in the sink, she sat down beside Ron and laid her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. He automatically put his arm around her, resting his head against the top of hers.

-||-

Teri parted the curtains, allowing the English sun to pour into the room like a river of light, bathing Draco in an angelic glow.

He stirred, frowning, and opened his eyes. Teri was looking out of the window, wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, her long dark hair damp and making her bathrobe look whiter than it was.

He looked around, wondering where he was. Then he remembered: he was in the Queen Victoria Hotel's honeymoon suite. And he had apparently fallen asleep in the living room. Teri must have realized, because a beige blanket was lovingly thrown over him. He pushed it away, looking for last night's dinner tray. Teri had probably taken care of that too.

Teri turned around, smiling at him, with the sun silhouetting her. "Good morning, Dalton."

He rubbed his eyes, forcing a smile. "Morning, Teri."

She came over to where he was sitting, folding herself onto the couch. She stretched one arm along the top of the couch, lacing it in his hair. "So what do you want to do today, love?" she asked.

"Shower, actually," he replied, carefully brushing her hand away. He stood up and stretched before heading off to the bathroom.

Teri stared at his retreating back, slightly puzzled by his behaviour. _Did I do something wrong?_

-||-

Hermione sat down at the front desk, extremely nervous about being back at work. Of course, she wasn't going to let anyone else see she was a nervous wreck, because then they'd send her home and she wouldn't be able to find out if that man really was Malfoy or not.

She adjusted her name tag, careful not to prick herself with the pin. Then she glanced at her monitor, making sure not a strand of hair was out of place.

Anne came out of the back room, and stopped at seeing Hermione. "Hermione? What are you doing here? I thought you were taking a few days off."

Hermione turned, a smile plastered on her face. "Oh, gosh, no! I felt fine this morning and thought I might as well come back to work!"

Anne raised an eyebrow, taking her spot beside Hermione. "Baldie refused to give you pay-leave?" she asked, referring to their boss by the nickname everyone secretly called him.

And Hermione was handed the perfect excuse on a silver platter. She grinned, rolling her eyes. "You know how cheap he is."

"Well, anyway, it's good to have you back, Herm," Anne said, taking a sip from a coffee mug with a picture of a wide-eyed cat that introduced the 'coffee cat'. "Yesterday was hell after you left. I honestly don't know how you manage without me sometimes."

Hermione shrugged. "Paul's usually here too."

Anne made a face. "A plank of wood has more personality than Paul."

The two girls laughed, marking a pretty good start to Hermione's day. So far.

She glanced around. People were entering and leaving the hotel. A lady, her husband and their four children came out of the elevator, the children screaming and racing out of the elevator, running towards the front door. She exchanged a look with Anne, whose faced was curled up in distaste. Having been the oldest of five children, Anne hated kids. Hermione smiled, turning her attention back to the family. The mother was desperately trying to regain control of the situation, and her shrill voice resonated through the lobby, earning her dirty looks from the other patrons.

The elevator doors opened again, and a tall blond man emerged, looking vaguely like a little lost boy. He was wearing a white polo t-shirt and a pair of jeans, with a brown jacket thrown over. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he approached the front desk hesitatingly.

Hermione swallowed. She turned quickly to Anne, hoping the other girl could deal with Malfoy, but Anne was busy trying to explain to someone on the phone how they could make an overseas phone call. The beginning signs of a panic attack began to set in, but she pushed them away. She turned back to the lobby just as Malfoy reached the counter.

-||-

"Good morning, Sir, how can I help you?" the receptionist – _Hermione_ – asked with a bright smile.

Dalton stared at her silently for a moment. Yes, there really was something familiar about her. He prodded the back of his mind, trying to remember where he had seen her, but the answer kept eluding him.

"Sir?" her voice broke into his thoughts. He blinked, then smiled. "Sorry," he quickly said. "I was wondering if you could recommend me a place to go for breakfast."

"Alone?" she asked, a hint of caution in her voice.

He shook his head. "My wife will be down in a minute."

There was something in the way he said that that bugged Hermione, but she didn't have much time to think anything of it as his wife approached the front desk and wound her arm around Malfoy's.

He forced a smile. "And here she is," he said with a little laugh.

Hermione smiled obligingly. "Good morning, ma'am," she replied out of habit. "There are quite a few nice cafés along this stretch of road that serve amazing breakfasts. Coffee Buzz has really filling muffins and their espresso is much better than Starbucks."

"That sounds good, thanks. Maybe we'll head over there?" Teri looked at Dalton enquiringly.

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Have a nice day," Hermione chirped as the couple walked away.

Dalton cast a final glance at Hermione over his shoulder as Teri led him away, enthusiastically talking away.

There was something unsettling in the way Malfoy looked at Hermione. Like he was studying her, breaking down her physical body and prodding her soul. She shivered and broke his gaze, looking down at her monitor.

**-|end of chapter 5|-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Anything But Ordinary: Six**

Harry glanced up at the big fish-shaped clock above the counter. Twelve-thirty pm. He sighed, bracing himself for the lunchtime crowd that was coming in any minute now. For some reason fish and chips were immensely popular in London. And unfortunately for Harry, waiting at the Fisheria was the only job he managed to get.

Sharon joined him at the counter. "Hi Harry!" she chirped, a big smile on her face. "I love the lunchtime crowd. Don't you just love the lunchtime crowd? There are so many people and you're just rushing around and-"

"Yeah, I get it, Mary," Harry interrupted, gritting his teeth.

"It's Sharon," she replied, deflating a little bit. A couple came in, glancing around before choosing a table. "Ooh, I've got a table! See you in a while, Harry!"

As Sharon bounded off to serve the couple, Harry wondered what she was high on. _I should ask her…_

Another couple came in: a tall man with white-blonde hair and grey eyes dressed casually in a white polo t-shirt and jeans, a brown jacket thrown over it; with him was a brunette, wearing a yellow dress with a white shrug and topping off the look with a pair of yellow stilettos.

Harry frowned. There was something familiar about the man, but he couldn't place it. Luckily for him, the couple seated themselves in his section, giving him a chance to study the man.

So he went up to them. "Hi, welcome to the Fisheria, here's the menu. I'll be back in a couple of minutes to take your order," he said with a little smile.

"Thanks," the man replied, looking up at Harry.

The lady was looking at Harry as well; her brown eyes were wide, and she looked panicked. "Um, Dalton, dear, I don't really feel like eating here. Can we go somewhere else?" she asked, touching his hand.

The man – Dalton? – tried to hide his annoyance. "Teri, you've been acting odd since we've come here. Are you alright?"

His voice sent an alarm in Harry's head. Draco Malfoy. Looking closely, Harry realized that the high cheekbones and less-sunken face and grey eyes belonged to the boy who had tormented Harry for seven years.

He didn't realize the lady – Teri – was talking. "…I'm just more in the mood for Italian rather than fish and chips."

Malfoy sighed. "Fine, we'll go somewhere else, alright?" He turned back to Harry, handing him his menu. "Sorry to have wasted your time, Sir. Thanks."

He stood up and left, leaving Teri to follow. She cast an almost triumphant look at Harry and followed behind Malfoy.

Harry frowned, wondering what the hell just happened.

-||-

Ron poured over a cell phone, fiddling with the parts, trying to figure out what had caused it to "freeze like a drowning poodle in winter on so many occasions", as the owner had so charmingly put it.

Suddenly a loud, shrill version of Abba's Mamma Mia blared into the silent room, startling everyone working intently on their various electronic gadgets. Ron fumbled around for his cell phone, muttering apology after apology to every death glare that shot his way.

"Yeah?"

"Ron, it's me, Harry," the voice on the phone replied.

"What the hell do you want?" Ron demanded, running a hand through his orange hair.

"I was going to tell you before you interrupted me!"

"Sorry, Harry. So what did you want to tell me?"

"Hermione was right. Malfoy's back."

Ron frowned. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I saw him, Ron. It really was him."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

There was silence on the phone. "Uh, I…don't know."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm working right now, we'll talk at home, alright?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Later, Harry."

He hung up the phone, wondering whether both Harry and Hermione had lost their minds and trying to go back to concentrating on his broken cell phone.

-||-

Dalton shoveled a forkful of spinach ravioli into his mouth. Teri more elegantly bit into her Mediterranean pizza silently.

Draco hadn't said a word to her since they'd left the fish and chips place, and by now Teri was convinced something was wrong.

Teri swallowed. "Dalton," she tried again, "please, tell me what's wrong."

Draco looked up at her. "Teri, nothing's wrong." He returned his attention to his pasta, stabbing the ravioli with a greater intensity than before.

"Then why are you acting like this?" she asked cautiously.

Draco closed his eyes, counting to ten before opening them up again. "I told you, Teri, nothing is wrong. I'm fine. Everything's alright."

Teri silently bit into her pizza, her eyes stinging with tears. She would have preferred if he had yelled at her instead.

Dalton glanced up at her. _Oh, no._ He put his fork down. "Teri, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

Teri shook her head, not looking up at him. "It's fine," she answered, her voice cracking a little.

"Asteria," he started.

"After lunch why don't we see if we can find a patisserie?" she asked, looking up at him with a bright smile on her face. "I'm in the mood for a soft chocolate thingie."

He stared at her for a moment, wondering what had just happened. Then he remembered that he was married now. He put on a smile and decided to roll with it. "Of course, sweetie," he smiled.

He sighed inwardly. Life with Teri was going to be crazier than he thought it would.

**-|end of chapter six|-**


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